Poems of James Clarence Mangan (Many hitherto uncollected): Centenary edition: Edited, with preface and notes by D. J. O'Donoghue: Introduction by John Mitchel |
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HYMN FOR PENTECOST. |
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 | Poems of James Clarence Mangan |  |
HYMN FOR PENTECOST.
Pure Spirit of the alway-faithful God,
Kindler of Heaven's true light within the soul!
From the lorn land our sainted fathers trod,
Ascends to Thee our cry of hope and dole.
Thee, Thee we praise!
To Thee we raise
Our choral hymn in these awakening days:
O, send us down anew that fire
Which of old lived in David's and Isaiah's lyre.
Kindler of Heaven's true light within the soul!
From the lorn land our sainted fathers trod,
Ascends to Thee our cry of hope and dole.
Thee, Thee we praise!
To Thee we raise
Our choral hymn in these awakening days:
O, send us down anew that fire
Which of old lived in David's and Isaiah's lyre.
Centuries had rolled, and earth lay tombed in sleep,
The nightmare sleep of nations beneath kings;
And far abroad o'er liberty's great deep
Death's angel waved his black and stilling wings.
Then struck Thine hour!
Thou, in Thy power,
But breathedst, and the free stood up, a tower;
And tyranny's thrones and strongholds fell,
And men made jubilee for an abolished hell.
The nightmare sleep of nations beneath kings;
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Death's angel waved his black and stilling wings.
Then struck Thine hour!
Thou, in Thy power,
But breathedst, and the free stood up, a tower;
And tyranny's thrones and strongholds fell,
And men made jubilee for an abolished hell.
And she, our mother-house, the famed, the fair,
The golden house of light and intellect,
Must she still groan in her intense despair?
Shall she lie prone while Europe stands erect?
Forfend this, Thou
To Whom we vow
Souls even our giant wrongs shall never bow:
Thou wilt not leave our green flag furled,
Nor bear that we abide the byword of the world.
The golden house of light and intellect,
Must she still groan in her intense despair?
Shall she lie prone while Europe stands erect?
Forfend this, Thou
To Whom we vow
Souls even our giant wrongs shall never bow:
Thou wilt not leave our green flag furled,
Nor bear that we abide the byword of the world.
Like the last lamp that burned in Tullia's tomb
Through ages, vainly, with unwaning ray,
Our star of Hope lights but a path of gloom,
Whose false track leads us round and round alway.
But Thou canst ope
A gate from hope
To victory! Thou canst nerve our arms to cope
With looming storm and danger still,
And lend a thunder-voice to the land's lightning-will.
Through ages, vainly, with unwaning ray,
Our star of Hope lights but a path of gloom,
Whose false track leads us round and round alway.
But Thou canst ope
A gate from hope
To victory! Thou canst nerve our arms to cope
With looming storm and danger still,
And lend a thunder-voice to the land's lightning-will.
Descend, then, Spirit of the Eternal King!
To thee, to Him, to His avenging Son,
The Divine God, in boundless trust we cling;
His help once ours, our nationhood is won.
We watch the time
Till that sublime
Event shall thrill the free of every clime.
Speed, mighty Spirit! speed its march,
And thus complete for earth mankind's triumphal arch.
To thee, to Him, to His avenging Son,
The Divine God, in boundless trust we cling;
His help once ours, our nationhood is won.
We watch the time
Till that sublime
Event shall thrill the free of every clime.
Speed, mighty Spirit! speed its march,
And thus complete for earth mankind's triumphal arch.
| Poems of James Clarence Mangan | |